Wednesday, 11 July 2012

the life

The life is begging and following me home,
too light for lampshades to hold it melts out,
the cupboard holds memories and scents,
I'm caught in your rigging, tangled, digging.

The life is winning over adventure, oh
the houses we drove past had wells, the
houses faced out the sea, blocked out,
sounds that would tickle the backs oh

The life presents as pretension, as I
pretend to have enough, as I
pretend to see, to have heard,
I'm caught up and I'm digging,

The life is winning over adventure,
that builds to crescendo, the life we attempt,
to bundle together, like clinging mould,
I'm trying, god I'm trying, to see,
my fair, my chaste, my unexpressive she.

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